


Magenta in the Shadows

by HamHamHeaven



Series: Greyscale [20]
Category: Chubbiness (Japan Band), Jrock, MUCC
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Bisexual Satochi (MUCC), Bisexual Yukke (MUCC), M/M, Mentioned Asanao & Reo (lynch.), Mentioned Hazuki (lynch.)/Tatsurou (MUCC), Mentioned Masuda Takahisa/Matsuoka Yuki (AKB48), Mentioned Miya (MUCC)/Mally (exist trace), Mentioned Other Jrock/Visual Kei Artist(s), Modern Setting, Not-so-platonic Kissing, Oblivious Satochi (MUCC), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Platonic Kissing, Rating May Change, Slight Self-Harm, colourblind soulmates au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2020-06-30 00:03:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 9,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19841329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HamHamHeaven/pseuds/HamHamHeaven
Summary: Snapshots of Satochi & Yukke.





	1. Unconfirmed

When your bedroom is small enough that many people would mistake it for an undersized closet, slumber parties tend to get pretty cosy. Fortunately, Yukke and Satochi have been squeezing into each other’s tiny bedrooms for sleep-overs practically since they were out of diapers, so waking up in a tangle, faces mere centimetres apart, doesn’t fluster either of them.

At least, it _shouldn’t_.

“I had a dream last night about meeting your soulmate,” Satochi informs his best friend through a wide yawn.

Yukke wrinkles his nose at Satochi’s morning breath and gropes clumsily for his glasses.

“ _My_ soulmate, not yours?”

“Yup,” Satochi nods.

He rolls over onto his back, pretending he’s being helpful by getting out of Yukke’s way but knowing full well that he’s making things more difficult. It’s one of his favourite games.

“Well?” Yukke prompts impatiently, still unable to locate the plastic frames atop the blurry bookshelf. “What happened? What were they like?”

“Mmm, she was…. D’you remember Ayumi-chan from 3-C?”

Yukke’s face alights with eagerness.

“Of _course_ I remember her!”

Who could forget! Ayumi, who graduated last year, is one of those girls who could be a model or a movie star or an idol if she wanted: tall and sleek and effortlessly breath-taking. Everyone at their school absolutely worshipped her.

“Yeah, well, your soulmate looked nothing like that.”

Yukke’s expression falls so dramatically that Satochi can’t help laughing hysterically. His friend doesn’t see the humour and gives Satochi a few retaliatory whacks with the closest thing at hand – a pillow – to show his annoyance.

“She was the total opposite,” continues Satochi. “She only came up to like your nose, and she was chubby.”

“Why did your subconscious give me a fat soulmate,” Yukke pouts. “That’s just rude, Sato!”

“I said ‘chubby’, not ‘fat’,” repeats Satochi judiciously. “You didn’t have any trouble getting your arms around her. She was just like really… _curvy_ – breasts, waist, ass.” 

Satochi draws an invisible figure in the air with his hands. 

“And a pretty face with dimples in her cheeks when she smiled.”

Yukke leans back and stares at the ceiling, trying to imagine the sort of girl Satochi is describing. A fifteen year old may have models as his ideal, but he’s willing to be pragmatic for a pretty, dimpled, curvy girl.

“I guess that would be okay,” he allows. “Though she sounds more like the sort of girl _you’d_ like, if she was shaped like that. You’re the one obsessed with boobs.”

Satochi shakes his head in vehement denial.

“No way. I hated her.”

“Hey!”

Yukke kicks out at his friend in frustration.

“Well, I had to,” Satochi explains blithely. “She wouldn’t share you with me.”

Satochi rolls out of the futon and shuffles toward the washroom with a grunt, so he doesn’t hear the way Yukke’s breath catches or see how his friend’s eyes fill with a longing sort of confusion at the thought of being “shared”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **1)** The Ayumi mentioned is [Orii Ayumi](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/cb/60/f6/cb60f60e48968ddf98ab23290be15a83.jpg) of AKB48. Sato's not clairvoyant, so he doesn't actually _know_ who Yukke's soulmate is, but I was envisioning someone super cute like [Shima Rika](https://jpop.fandom.com/wiki/Shima_Rika) of Chubbiness.


	2. Unreserved

“Do you remember the first time I kissed you, Yukkun?”

Yukke actually pauses the video game so that he can direct the full force of his incredulity on his best friend.

“Are you serious right now?” he demands.

Nineteen-year-old Satochi gives an awkward, lopsided grin and a shrug.

“Well do you?”

“Of _course_ I do.”

“How old were we?”

Utterly irritated, Yukke throws an empty Coke can at Satochi, which he easily dodges.

“Are you telling me you _don’t_ remember?” he rebukes.

“Not the specifics,” Satochi replies, evidently unaffected by his friend’s attitude. “Not like it’s a rare occurrence.”

That’s very true. They have shared thousands of kisses over the years, and by comparison that first one wasn’t particularly good. Neither of them had had much experience at that point, and the way Satochi’s lips connected with his own had been more of a collision than anything else.

Even so, Yukke still vividly remembers the way that kiss left him tingling for days afterward, and it frustrates him immensely that Satochi could have forgotten.

“Why d’you even care if you can’t be bothered to remember?” he sulks.

Satochi overrides the pause and resumes hunting zombies.

“Yuki was trying to make like it’s weird for us to be kissing, and I told her to get bent because we’ve been doing it since we were kids, but she wouldn’t believe me that it’s a normal thing for us since I couldn’t give her an exact age.”

Yukke grabs an extra box of ammunition for his character and considers his companion’s explanation.

“You were eleven, I think. Twelve at the oldest. It was definitely before my birthday, because they still had me playing short-stop back then.”

Satochi lets out a whoop of excitement as he rounds a corner straight into a crowd of enemies.

“Okay, yeah that sounds right.”

For a while the game progresses as usual – Satochi barrelling along in front heedless of danger, Yukke in the rear regularly consulting the gameplay map and doing his best to keep his partner from being virtually bitten.

“ _You_ don’t think it’s weird, do you?” he ventures as they reach the next save point and wait for things to resume.

“Me? Hell no! I told her she was a pervert for trying to make it that way when it’s totally not.”

Satochi grins over at Yukke, eyes shining. Yukke’s stomach does the familiar wriggling it always does when Satochi looks at him like that.

“Y-yeah. Pervert,” he agrees feebly, and tries his to distract himself with the gruesomeness of the game.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **1)** Sato was born 12 August and Yukke 5 November of the same year, both in-story & IRL.  
>  **2)** Yes, this is referring to Hazuki's Yuki from DfD/Brilliant World, but they haven't started dating yet.


	3. Undercurrents

Strange as it is, Satochi breathes a sigh of relief as the wash room door swings shut and the hazy ambiance of the crowded pub drops from almost deafening to a level that might actually let a fellow hear himself think. Thirty seconds later, the door swings open again, and he looks up to scowl at whoever it is that’s interrupting his momentary respite only to find Yukke.

“Oh there you are,” he offers rather unconvincingly.

Satochi turns on the tap because it’s what men standing at the sink of a lavatory are expected to do, sticks his hands under – cold water, not that Yukke’s going to realize that – and gives a half-shrug.

“Here I are.”

Yukke makes an awkward face, something between a smile and a grimace, before turning toward the urinal. Satochi turns his eyes down toward the water streaming over his hands, splashing and playing a little with it idly. In no time, Yukke as by his side, washing his own hands in the adjoining sink.

As he scrubs with the soap, he observes his friend’s reflection in the mirror closely. Satochi’s handsome face normally so quick to smile is marred by a frown, and there’s a stiffness in his shoulders that tends to mean he's frustrated.

“What’s wrong, Sato-kun? You’ve been really quiet the last bit. Are you feeling sick? Do you need me to call you a ride?”

“Nah, I’m fine.”

Satochi turns off the water, shakes his hands over the basin a couple of times, and then wipes them inelegantly on the back of his jeans.

“Something’s up,” Yukke presses, electing to use a drying towel. “What is it?”

Satochi glances toward the door to make sure they won’t be interrupted before admitting with a sigh:

“Sometimes I really hate being ‘the stupid one’. I know we play it up for a laugh, but… it gets old after a while.”

Yukke feels a pang of sympathy and remorse.

“No one _actually_ thinks you’re stupid, Sato.”

“No, yeah they do,” his friend contradicts. “And they’re not _wrong_ ; you know I never was very good in school. There always seemed to be more interesting things to think about than whatever lesson the teacher was presenting. Plus I’m not exactly dripping with common sense either. I just… no one _likes_ to be constantly reminded of the idiotic shit they’ve done or said, ya know?”

Yukke throws an arm around his friend’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Sato. I... should have thought more about your feelings before suggesting this game.”

Satochi leans heavily on Yukke, resting his forehead against the electrician’s temple.

“It’s not your fault. If you hadn’t suggested it, I’m sure one of the others would have. Team trivia is kinda standard procedure for these ‘meet the gang’ group dates ever since Mally nixed the drinking games.”

Yukke gives a wan smile.

“That’s your own fault for not being able to keep your hands out of Miya’s pants. We warned you.”

“Yeah yeah,” sighs Satochi with a roll of the eyes.

“Tell you what,” Yukke offers, “The next time you introduce a girl to the group, I’ll volunteer to be the dumb one so she can see how smart and funny you are.”

There’s an undercurrent of misery to that suggestion that Satochi can’t quite understand, even when he forcibly lifts Yukke’s chin to study his friend’s expression. When their lips connect and the electrician grabs a fistful of the back of Satochi’s shirt, he feels a bit closer to the answer. But then the kiss ends, Yukke steps back, and Satochi’s fleeting insight fades along with the scent of Yukke’s cigarettes and cologne.

“Come on. Let’s see if we can’t convince everyone to switch to pachinko or karaoke instead.”

Satochi still feels quite frustrated and more than a bit confused, but he allows Yukke to take him by the hand and lead him back out to their table. And if it takes a longer than usual for him to let go, well, that’s just the alcohol and lack of sleep, isn’t it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **1)** This was kinda inspired by their 20th anniversary MUCC to the Future videos. The trivia and educational segments really seemed to bother Sato-kun after a while. Tatsurou once described Sato as “simple, delicate, and super serious” , and while I’m pretty sure he was being the sarcastic bitch we all know and love, I also think there’s some truth behind that. You could definitely see things were getting to Sato after a while; like, yes, they threw in wrong answers from Tatsu and Miya to “balance” it out, but everyone kinda treated it as a _given_ that Sato would miss the questions. It made me feel really bad for him.  
>  **2)** As this is meant to be a European style pub, I figured I could get away with the inclusion of paper towels.


	4. Undeserved

“Sato-kun, I need your advice about something.”

This is a rather surprising turn of events. Well-meaning though he is, Satochi isn’t the sort of person his friends turn to for advice. If you need a drink or a laugh, Satochi’s your man, but if sensible counsel is what you need, Mally or Reo would be a much safer bet. Even Tatsurou or Asanao would be on the list of consultants before someone were desperate enough to ask Satochi’s opinion.

Still, Yukke _has_ asked for Satochi’s help, and he’s not about to tell his best friend ‘no’.

“What’s up, Yukkun?”

It must be something pretty serious, because the younger man’s eyes are firmly fixed on the Giants game and won’t turn his way even when Satochi nudges him in the ribs.

“I… accidentally found out that a person who is dating one of my friends is cheating on him.”

Satochi casts a side-long glance at Yukke.

“Accidentally?”

“Like I wasn’t intentionally snooping around for information or following her or whatever. I just happened to see the two of them going into a love hotel together while I was driving home the other night. And the way they were groping each other made it pretty obvious why they were there.”

Satochi grimaces.

“Yeah, hard to make that something innocent. You’re sure it was your friend’s girlfriend, not someone else?”

“Very sure. She has a couple of… defining features.”

The batter pops up a high fly ball, and Satochi whistles through his teeth as he reaches for another slice of pizza.

“My problem is,” Yukke continues, ignoring the baseball game even as he stares holes through the television screen, “What I should do with the information. I don’t know if I should confront her with what I saw and give her the chance to come clean. If I should tell my friend about it and risk him being pissed off at me for sticking my nose in where it doesn’t belong. But then if he _does_ find out afterwards that I knew and didn’t tell him, wouldn’t he be pissed off about that too? I… don’t know.”

Satochi chews thoughtfully, wiping the grease from the corner of his mouth with his shirt sleeve.

“Is she like… a friend too?”

Yukke shakes his head.

“No. I only know her through him, and we barely speak.”

“D’you think she’d actually listen if you confronted her?”

This question makes Yukke sigh and drop his head onto the back of the sofa.

“Probably not. If I had to guess, I’d say she’ll probably either tell me it’s none of my business or freak out that I’m going to blackmail her or something.”

“Ugh, one of _those_ ,” Satochi commiserates. “I dunno, man. Tough call. She really ought to be the one to fess up and tell the guy the truth, but I guess if she had that sort of nerve, she would have just broken up with him in the first place rather than cheating. From your friend’s point of view, …if it were _me_ , I’d want to know, but….”

“It… _is_ you,” interrupts Yukke.

His voice is low and quiet and so very painfully apologetic.

“… oh.”

Satochi processes this statement, slowly turning it over and over in his mind. 

Nami has been cheating on him. Yukke saw her. His best friend. A good, loyal person who would never lie about something like this or say things just to hurt him. And she does have a couple of very prominently placed tattoos that would make her hard to mistake for anyone else. So it _must_ be true.

“I’m so sorry, Sato-kun.”

Tossing the pizza crust back into the box, Satochi takes another unnecessarily hard swipe at his mouth with the back of his hand and shrugs indifferently.

“Not your fault. Don’t worry about it.”

“Are you going to be okay?”

“Yeah, s’fine. I kinda got the feeling it wasn’t gonna last much longer anyhow, so it’s no big loss or anything.”

With a grunt, Satochi flops over and nestles his head in Yukke’s lap, staring at the screen through the sea of beer bottle necks. Yukke plants a kiss on Satochi’s shoulder and curls himself around his friend, draping an arm across his hips in a half-hug.

“Are you staying over?”

“If that’s okay with you. Don’t really feel like going home and dealing with all that shit just yet.”

“Sure, it’s fine,” Yukke readily agrees. “The sheets are mostly clean. I just changed them yesterday.”

“Like I even care. Say, did I leave my Buck-Tick shirt and black Nike tracksuit over here last time?”

Yukke can’t quite understand why Satochi is behaving so nonchalantly after what he’s just learned. He’d been expecting fireworks: violent swearing, throwing things, maybe even a punch or two aimed at anything or anyone hapless enough to get in the way. Then again, in his twenty-four years, Yukke has never had a girl cheat on him before; maybe these things take a while to sink in completely.

“Er… not _last_ time specifically, but I think they’re in your drawer. Bit warm to be sleeping in a tracksuit, isn’t it?”

“I wasn’t gonna wear ‘em. Just wondered if you had them or if I lost them at the gym or something. I was looking for the shirt yesterday and couldn’t find it, and the last time I remember wearing it was when I had the Nike suit on, which I couldn’t find that either. Made me think I must have left it all here.”

“Pretty sure they’re in your drawer,” Yukke repeats, supressing a yawn.

“Cool.”

Satochi rolls onto his back and reaches up to pull Yukke down by the neck for a kiss. It’s an awkward angle for both of them, but that doesn’t matter.

“Thanks, Yukkun,” he murmurs. “I know I can always count on you to look out for me.”

Yukke wishes hearts were as easily looked after as clothes, but he doesn’t bother voicing that idea.

“That’s what best friends are for, Sato,” he says instead, punctuating the thought with another kiss.


	5. Unsuspecting

Yukke doesn’t pay any attention to the rattling of the door handle or the metallic scrape of a key being inelegantly shoved into a lock. Only one person has a duplicate key to his place. Whether the visitor is, as he suspects, Satochi in one of his clumsy-due-to-haste moods or a neighbour drunkenly seeking entry to the wrong door, they will figure things out eventually. 

Sure enough, after a brief struggle, the door bangs open, followed by some very colourful expletives and the thud of steel-toed work boots being thrown haphazardly toward the shoe rack.

“You are _never_ going to believe what happened between Tatsu and Hazuki!”

Satochi blows into the room with all the grace of a tornado.

“Hey, Sato,” responds Yukke vaguely.

He is more than used to these exuberant outbursts and knows how much fun it is to feign indifference when Satochi has gossip he’s obviously itching to spill.

“Hazu and Tatsu!” Satochi repeats, doing his best imitation of a puppy that’s been promised a walk.

Yukke doesn’t even glance up from the magazine he’s reading.

“Hmm?”

“They hooked up last night,” divulges Satochi triumphantly. “As in… _hooked up_!”

While this is certainly news to Yukke, he’s not quite sure why his best friend makes it sound like this is such a monumental revelation.

“About time too,” offers Yukke by way of positive comment.

It takes the wind right out of Satochi’s sails.

“Someone else already told you,” he pouts, flopping down next to Yukke.

If you can really call it ‘next to’ when it’s mostly ‘on top of’. Yukke shifts to accommodate the additional weight.

“No one told me anything.”

“Then why are you being such a stick in the mud?”

“Why are _you_ being such an eager beaver?” Yukke counters. “It’s not like we haven’t been expecting something like this to happen.”

“Who’s _we_?” asks Satochi incredulously.

Yukke cocks an eyebrow.

“Everyone? They’ve been in love with each other since secondary school at least.”

Satochi snatches the magazine from Yukke’s hands and hurls it to the floor.

“In love?! All these years, and you never told me?!”

Yukke can’t help but laugh.

“Why would I tell you something you already _knew_?”

“Like hell I knew!” Satochi retorts.

“Sato, how could you _not_ know?! We talk about it all the time. In front of you. You laugh about it with us.”

“Huh? Who? When?”

“Every time Miya calls them ‘the oblivious idiots’, for example.”

Satochi frowns.

“How was I supposed to know that’s what he was talking about?”

“What did you _think_ he was calling them oblivious about?”

“I just thought, you know..., in general,” shrugs Satochi.

He looks lost and confused. And hurt. The only one left out of an inside joke. Yukke sighs and wraps his best friend in an affectionate hug, pressing a kiss to his hair.

“We weren’t trying to hide things from you, Sato. Honest to gods, it was so blatant it never once occurred to me that you wouldn’t have noticed. Didn’t you ever catch one of them staring at the other when they thought no one was paying attention? The way Tatsu’s eyes are riveted to Hazuki’s hands when he’s talking sometimes, or how Hazu tends to get all into Tatsurou’s personal space when he’s been drinking?”

“I thought that’s just how drunk people are,” replies Satochi. “Miya and Hazu and I – we’re all like that.”

“Yes, you and Miya are both extremely cuddly drunks,” Yukke acknowledges with a weak smile. “But Hazuki isn’t like that with everyone, only Tatsurou. Think about it. How does he usually react when _you_ snuggle up to him at the bar?”

Satochi cocks his head to one side and thinks.

“He usually punches me on the arm and tells me to get off.”

“Exactly. And when Miya does it, he’s promptly shoved off onto Mally. Drunk Hazuki is very singular in his displays of affection.”

“Huh.”

Thoughtful silence reigns for several minutes.

“Are there any _other_ obvious relationships going on that I should know about?” Satochi finally enquires.

“Well, I think Miya and Mally may be getting pretty serious,” Yukke teases.

Satochi is not amused.

“They got married like five years ago. I think even _I’m_ smart enough to figure that one out.”

“And Reo-san and Asanao-san own a house and a business together, so there may be something between the two of them too.”

Satochi shoves up off the sofa and melodramatically storms into the kitchen for a beer, calling “You’re an ass, Yukkun” over his shoulder as he goes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **1)** Time stamp on this one is approximately 24 hours after the end of Dreamer from Darkness. For obvious reasons.  
>  **2)** If you watch the [Bar Boo episode](https://youtu.be/lFIkiwTP-qc) with Miya and Hazu, you’ll see what I mean about Miya being a cuddly drunk. It's precious.


	6. Uncharted

Yuki turns her head this way and that, critically eyeing the asymmetrical fall of her new hairstyle. Most of the weight she gained carrying Isamu has disappeared, but she still feels a little foreign in her own body at times. This latest change is _supposed_ to give her a boost of confidence.

“Are you sure about this, Yusuke-san?”

Behind her, the stylist crosses his arms over his narrow chest and asks in an intentionally melodramatic tone:

“Will you _ever_ learn to stop doubting me?”

She rolls her eyes at him via the reflection in the mirror.

“I was right about Takahisa-kun, wasn’t I!” he persists.

The blush on her cheeks is unmistakeable, even to someone who doesn’t see colour.

“So far,” she allows. “But I still don’t entirely trust you. If he’s really as wonderful as you say, why didn’t you keep him for yourself?

“Not my type,” replies Yusuke with an indifferent shrug.

He ruffles her hair a bit more then whisks the cape from her neck with the flourish of an artist unveiling a sculpture.

“Nice, cute guys aren’t your type?” Yuki quips as she carefully eases herself out of the chair.

“He’s an absolute lamb, Darling, you can take my word for that. He’s just so dreadfully intellectual.”

“Whereas you prefer idiots?”

“I prefer brawn over brains.”

Yusuke’s eyes flit briefly toward the windows, which are currently rattling in their panes from the persistent hammering of a nearby pneumatic drill. Yuki doesn’t notice, because she’s once again preoccupied with her own reflection.

“And you’re _sure_ he’ll like this haircut?”

Yusuke gives an exasperated sigh.

“If he doesn't fall babbling at your feet the moment he sees you, I will buy you a manicure so that you can scratch his useless eyes out. Junko,” he barks sharply. “Matsuoka-san would like her child back now.”

The girl behind the cash register reluctantly hands Isamu back to Yuki and goes back to her manicurist’s table while Yusuke takes over cashing out his client.

Across the street, the sweltering sun beats down on Satochi’s exposed neck, adding to the steady stream of perspiration trickling down his spine from under his hardhat. His biceps, shoulders, and back strain against the relentless vibration of the pneumatic drill he’s been using all morning. Being part of the Lustair demolition crew is usually a lot of fun; Satochi loves getting to break and tear things down, then watch as Reo and Yukke and the others take the empty space he’s created and build something new and functional in its place. But the unbearable heat and humidity of Tokyo late summer certainly lessens the appeal on days like today.

He wishes his best friend were here; he wants to talk to Yukke about that new game console he saw advertised during the baseball game last night. See if maybe he can’t convince Yukke to go halves on buying one. They’re bound to end up sharing it no matter who pays so they might as well split the cost; however, Yukke tends to want to hold off until other people have tried and posted reviews before purchasing, and Satochi doesn’t want to wait that long. Unfortunately Yukke’s on a job site across town this week, so Satochi’s options are to wait until Friday night after work or try to do his convincing via text message: a feat he’s always found difficult. He’s much more persuasive in person when he’s able to infect Yukke with his enthusiasm or coerce him with a pout.

He’ll worry about all that later. For now, it’s lunchtime. Satochi sets the drill aside with a groan and removes his hardhat, safety glasses, and noise-reducing earplugs, stretching his aching muscles before wandering over to the collapsible tent they’ve set up as a makeshift canteen. He grabs a bento and a bottle of tea from the coolers and plops down into one of the vacant folding chairs beside his co-workers who’ve already started their meals.

“Nice of you to call me for lunch,” he chides.

“Stomach does that for you,” replies Seika pragmatically around a mouthful.

Satochi can’t argue with that; his stomach is very good about reminding him when it’s time for food, and being on the drill always works up an appetite. For a while, conversation ebbs in favour of nourishment. Before long, the food has disappeared, and Satochi pushes his chair back with a grunt of contentment, lifting up the hem of his shirt to wipe his sweaty face and dirty mouth.

Takahiro gives Satochi’s bare arm muscle a playful squeeze.

“What’s with the lack of sleeves – working on your suntan?”

“Nah, he’s showing off for the locals, aren’t you Sato-kun?” banters Kaz.

Satochi grins.

“Yeah, right. Like they do anything other than glare at me for making all that noise. Just too damned hot for sleeves.”

“I dunno,” Go chimes in mischievously. “I’d say that vamp who keeps staring out the salon window is definitely ogling not glaring.”

“Vamp? Salon? Where?”

Satochi scans the opposite side of the street for the business in question and soon spots the storefront and door, out of which is emerging a familiar pair of faces.

“Yuki-chan!” he shouts.

She turns in his direction, searching the dusty construction site until she locates him among the cluster of construction workers.

“Sato, hi!” Yuki calls back.

Her son Isamu on her hip waves enthusiastically; Satochi returns the wave with equal gusto. He throws a quick glance both ways along the street before crossing over to speak to them.

“Hey, Yuki-chan, ‘Samu-kun. What are you doing in this neighbourhood?”

“This is my new stylist,” Yuki explains, pointing over her shoulder at the door she’s just exited. “Shiho recommended him, and you know she won’t take no for an answer.”

“So I’ve heard. Did you get a new cut today? Looks good.”

Satochi is merely guessing, as he never paid much attention to how Yuki styles her hair; his compliment is welcomed though because a shy smile spreads across her face.

“You think? Yusuke-san is convinced that Takahisa-san will like it, but I don’t know….”

“It looks great,” Satochi assures her. “Your boyfriend’s gonna love it.”

“I hope so. Anyway, we don’t want to interrupt your lunch, but it’s good to see you.”

“You too.”

Satochi allows Isamu to give him a high five and fist bump, something Tatsurou has been teaching him, before Yuki heads off. As Satochi turns to re-cross the street, he sees a slender person in all black watching him intently through the salon window. The person’s hair is hanging down into their eyes, and although what’s visible of the expression is haughty, something about their posture sends electricity zinging along Satochi’s spine. Go-kun was right; this person is _definitely_ ogling. Satochi gives them a cheeky wink, then darts back to the construction site.

All afternoon, the burning of the sun is augmented by the tingling caused by two lustful eyes watching him. Every time Satochi looks, that person is there, staring. Satochi’s mind begins to wander, imagining how his admirer would react if he suddenly barged into the salon and shoved them against a wall for a few scorching kisses. It works for guys in porn, right? Would that frigid demeanour melt into needy whimpering as Satochi’s calloused hands found their way beneath clothing to supple skin? Something tells him it would.

And so a different sort of heat begins to smoulder within Satochi.

Yusuke is disappointed when the deafening noise from across the road ceases, since it means the sexy construction worker has gone home for the evening. Of course, he will likely return tomorrow, so it’s not as though Yusuke won’t have a chance to see his fantasy again. Still, the stylist has gotten himself rather worked up over the idea of what might happen if they could accidentally meet, and it irritates him that his plans will have to wait.

He grumbles sullenly as he finishes the last of the cleaning and organizing for the morning, ready to console himself when he gets home with a bottle of wine and a well-used copy of Desire Under ConstrXXXn Volume 17. When the chime over the front door rings, he heaves a sigh at having forgotten to lock up and prepares himself for the “we’re closed, you’ll have to come back tomorrow” argument.

Instead of a customer, he finds the construction worker, slightly out of breath and hair still a bit damp from a recent shower. He’s just wearing fitted jeans and a graphic T-shirt, but the simple clothes display his deliciously muscled frame to perfection. 

“You!” Yusuke exclaimed in surprise.

“Me,” Satochi agrees looking momentarily unsure of himself.

The uncertainty doesn’t last. Without really knowing how, Satochi finds himself with an armful of stylist being kissed so eagerly he’s nearly bowled over. Acting on the daydream that’s been playing in his mind all afternoon, Satochi shoves the slim beauty against the wall and returns his passion with a hunger he’d find amazing if he bothered to think about it.

“Come home with me,” Yusuke orders as Satochi’s lips descend to his neck.

“Sure.”

No way in hell Satochi is going to turn down an offer like that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **1)** A Yukke-free chapter, and one with a POV from someone other than our main characters. Hope it's not too weird this way.  
>  **2)** Mentioned co-workers are: bassist Yamada Takahiro of Asian Kung-Fu Generation, saxophone player Seika of UVERworld, guitarist K-A-Z and drummer Go of SADS. Yuki's off-screen boyfriend is Masuda Takahisa of NEWS. The company name, Lustair, is from Reo's (lynch.) first [band](https://vk.gy/artists/lustair/).  
>  **3)** If anyone's keeping track, Yusuke's look is mostly [Blood-thirsty Creature](https://pbs.twimg.com/media/Dfde-w-UcAA2B-g.jpg) era. And yes, he's channeling my preoccupation with Sato's bare arms; don't @ me.  
> 


	7. Unrequited

“And that’s when he dragged out the ball gag.”

Despite coming from the opposite corner of the Yaguchis’ flat, Satochi’s voice as he relays the details of his most recent conquest is like an arrow aimed directly at Yukke’s aching heart. Satochi always has been one to boast about his hook-ups; “discrete” isn’t in his vocabulary. And being Satochi’s best friend, Yukke inevitably hears these things multiple times. This is no different. It’s, what?, the fourth retelling Yukke’s had to endure in less than a week.

Ignoring the suggestive remarks and the knowing smirks of his best friend’s audience, Yukke pushes past Omi and Ren with a muttered apology and retreats to the less crowded dining room.

“Need some help?” he offers Mally as she strides in with a tray of hors d’oeuvres in each hand.

“Just lift that plate if you will,” she replies, bestowing a grateful smile as he clears the space. “Terrific. Now pop those last few onto here as well, and I’ll toss this empty one back into the kitchen.”

Yukke uses the small plastic serving tongs to pile the few remaining gyoza on top of the fresh, steaming dumplings and dutifully hands over the serving dish. As he continues to fuss with the snacks, Satochi’s laughter filters in above the general party noise. Yukke flinches.

It shouldn’t matter, but gods does it hurt. Knowing that Satochi can tell from a single lust-filled glance through a beauty parlour window that someone wants him but has never once noticed, not even momentarily _suspected_ , how deep Yukke’s feelings run. And the fact that this person was also named Yusuke just adds insult to injury.

“He’s never going to figure it out on his own,” comes a soft voice at his elbow.

Yukke glances up to find Mally watching him appraisingly. Understandingly.

“Dunno what you mean,” he lies.

“Yes, you do. Carnal desire is one thing, but Sato-kun is completely clueless when it comes to other emotional connections. If you want him to realize, you’re going to have to _tell_ him. Probably pretty bluntly.”

Yukke shoves his hands into his pockets and shakes his head.

“No point.”

“Why not?” she asks.

“It would ruin the friendship we have. I know things worked out for Hazuki and Tatsurou, but they’re the exception rather than the rule.”

The best thing, and the worst, about Mally is how pragmatic she is.

“I’ll grant you their situation is very different from yours,” she concedes. “From what Miya’s said, they’ve been madly in love with each other for years; it was just a matter of growing a pair and admitting what was already there. Whereas….”

“Whereas Sato doesn’t even know I exist,” interrupts Yukke glumly. “Not in _that_ way, at least. To him, all I’ll ever be is a friend. Not that I’d be good enough for someone like that anyway.”

Mally’s about to protest this self-effacement when Satochi suddenly appears out of the crowd, beer bottle in hand, and drapes himself casually around Yukke’s shoulders.

“Someone like what?” he inquires, having apparently heard the last snippet of conversation. “What idiot thinks you’re not good enough? Tell me who it is, and I’ll totally go beat some sense into them!”

Mally watches sympathetically as Yukke’s entire face darkens in mortification.

“Won’t be necessary,” he mumbles. “Forget about it.”

“Hell no!” Satochi denies, utterly oblivious to the misery he’s causing. “If someone is that blind to all of your good qualities, it’s my responsibility as your best friend to clue them in.”

“Sato-kun, I think maybe you should let it drop,” Mally suggests firmly.

Satochi ignores her.

“Tell me.”

“No one.”

“Tell me.”

“Forget it!”

“Tell me! Tell me! Tell me!”

Frustrated and pushed to the very edge, Yukke grabs Satochi by the collar and kisses him. Hard. At first, Satochi thinks it’s just a distraction tactic, but then Yukke’s tongue finds its way past his lips, and before Satochi has time to think, his body is responding eagerly. Yukke moans: a low, gruff, primal sound in the back of his throat that has Satochi hardening in an instant. His arms tighten around Yukke, his head tilts for a better angle, and he kisses back for all he’s worth. It’s as if the entire world has faded away and no one exists except Yukke. 

But only temporarily.

Satochi pulls back and stares at his best friend in lust-clouded confusion.

“Yukkun?”

“It’s _you_ , you idiot,” Yukke chokes down a hysterical laugh. “Why can’t you ever see that it’s _you_?!”

The room has gone strangely silent, and Yukke’s humiliation doubles as he recognizes that _all_ of Miya and Mally’s guests have just witnessed this entire scene. He shoves Satochi aside, spilling the beer on the floor in his haste to escape. 

Several voices call out as Yukke hurries toward the door – Mally telling him to wait, Hazuki asking if he’s okay, Reiko wanting to know if there’s anything he needs. Yukke ignores them all. The bile and alcohol are churning in his stomach so badly that if he answers, he’s likely to vomit. Besides, he’s _not_ going to wait, he most certainly is _not_ okay, and they don’t have anything he needs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **1)** 矢口 is allegedly Miya's family name, so that's what I went with here.  
>  **2)** If it wasn't clear, the ladies referred to in this chapter are Omi of exist trace, Ren of Danger Gang, and Reiko wife of Jiro of Glay.  
>  **3)** Short chapter is short. Sorry.


	8. Unresolved

The other party guests immediately converge on Yukke’s escape route, effectively blocking Satochi from following. By the time he’s carelessly shoved them out of his way and dragged on his shoes, he’s just able to catch a glimpse of Yukke’s tear-stained face as the lift doors slide closed. He curses loudly and races toward the stair well, hoping against hope that he will be able to beat the lift down before Yukke can escape into the street. Only to realize as his hand closes on the door knob that the lift is heading up, not down.

Satochi doesn’t stop to wonder why; he simply allows his feet to carry him as quickly as they can up the three flights of steps. It so happens that three flights are just enough for his confused mind to supply the melodramatic thought that Yukke might have gone to the roof in order to jump off. The door bangs open, and he draws a lungful of air to call Yukke’s name but chokes at the sight that greets him: Yukke sagged against the wall a short distance from the air-conditioning units with his face buried in his hands sobbing. 

Satochi doesn’t know what to do. He’s always inept when verbally comforting someone who’s crying, and the fact that _he_ is the reason for his best friend’s tears makes everything ten times worse. Several times, Yukke jerks his head back violently against the bricks as if he’s trying to crack open his skull. Under normal circumstances, Satochi would offer a hug or a kiss to calm Yukke down and prevent this attempt at self-harm; neither of those options seems appropriate at the moment. So he stands there helplessly, his mind a maelstrom of unanswered questions.

Eventually, Yukke wipes his eyes on his shirt sleeve and begins groping in his pockets for a cigarette. Even in the lengthening shadows, Satochi can see that his friend’s hands are shaking so violently he can barely extract one from the pack. Once he does, Yukke fumbles for several minutes searching for a lighter, until Satochi finally gives a frustrated grunt and digs out his own.

Yukke gives a startled jump when Satochi grabs him by the wrist, but he allows his friend to steady his hand as he holds the flame against the tip. 

“Thanks,” he rasps, eyes resolutely fixed on the ground.

“No problem,” Satochi replies.

He leans against the wall at Yukke’s side, staring vacantly off down the street because eye contact seems far too intimate at the moment, and struggles to come to terms with what’s happening. Yukke endeavours to ignore the pain in his head and his heart as he smokes his way through the cigarette. 

“Me?” Satochi eventually asks.

“Yeah, you,” answers Yukke guiltily. “Sorry. Gods know I’ve been trying to fight it, but….”

That apology shreds Satochi’s insides to bits. Yukke, who must have been so unhappy for Satochi can’t even begin to fathom how long, and _he’s_ the one offering an apology.

“Don’t apologize,” he insists. “Just… shut up and let me think, okay? I’m slow, and it’s gonna take a while for all of this to sink in.”

Yukke isn’t fazed by Satochi’s typical declaration of slowness. He’s too busy trying not to think about how close Satochi is standing – how he can just barely feel the brush of the back of Satochi’s hand against his own. He probably ought to move away from the touch. From his friend. From the agony of false hope. But Yukke’s always been a masochist when it comes to Satochi.

Which is why when Satochi reaches over and entwines their fingers, Yukke accepts it with a gentle squeeze of his best friend’s hand. Even so, he whispers:

“Please don’t pretend to feel something you don’t, Sato. That will only make things worse.”

Satochi draws a ragged breath.

“The only thing I know for sure that I feel right now is… confused. Totally confused. Everything else is…,” he gestures helplessly.

“That’s… fair,” Yukke allows.

He feels that way himself.

“Well, that and I’m super sorry, because I must have been hurting you like crazy. I never _meant_ to hurt you, Yukkun.”

He turns impulsively toward his best friend.

“I know that,” Yukke wipes his eyes roughly on his sleeve again then looks off toward the horizon, refusing to meet Satochi’s gaze. “I know you’re not an asshole.”

“Are you sure?” Satochi asks with a bitter laugh as he flops back against the wall once more. “‘Cause I _feel_ like one.”

Instinct and habit have an affectionate reassurance springing to Yukke’s lips in an instant, but he swallows it down. Maybe a few minutes’ guilt won’t do Satochi any harm.

“What I really don’t understand is… why? Why me of all people?”

Yukke scuffs out the cigarette butt with his foot.

“Couldn’t tell you why. Not like I woke up one morning and _decided_ to feel this way.”

“But… me?! Seriously? You could do _so_ much better than…. Why the hell would you want an idiot like me? I’m… useless. Barely functional as an adult. Everyone’s always saying so. And dumb. Really, _really_ dumb. Like….”

“Don’t,” Yukke interrupts angrily. “Don’t say those sorts of things about yourself.”

“But they’re true, aren’t they?” Satochi persists. “I’m….”

“Don’t talk about the person I love most like that.”

There it is: the truth that’s been lurking just below the surface. Satochi does not understand it. Yukke can’t possibly love him. It makes no sense.

“I just…. I don’t get why.”

“Well, I’m not gonna give you a laundry list of reasons,” declares Yukke, giving Satochi’s hand another squeeze when his tone comes out more resentful than he intended. “You’ll just have to take my word for it that I do and leave it at that.”

“Do you _want_ to leave it at that, Yukkun?”

Despite his best efforts to suppress them, tears began to trickle down Yukke’s cheeks once more.

“No. But what I want was only ever a pipedream. I mean, it’s not like you could ever actually want _me_.”

Satochi feels like he’s been kicked.

“Come on. I never said that.”

“You didn’t have to. I know it’s true. I don’t blame you either, considering. I just….”

Yukke struggles to find the words, _any_ words that might undo this horrific disaster of an evening. 

“I hate the thought that _that_ was the last chance I’ll ever get to kiss you.”

Satochi hates that thought too, and he realizes quite suddenly that he wants very much to pull Yukke into his arms and soothe away all of his best friend’s fears. He also appreciates that probably isn’t the sort of thought most people have about their best friends.

 _So kiss me again,_ is what he wants to say. 

But is he _ready_ to say that? He may be slow and oblivious, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure out how Yukke would interpret that sort of suggestion. Is that a path he’s willing to travel?

“I don’t want to hurt you more than I already have, Yukkun. Like you said, it will only make things worse if I pretend to feel something before I know for sure. And I can’t hide behind the excuse of ‘I didn’t know’ anymore.”

Yukke gives a listless nod of acceptance and finally removes his hand from Satochi’s grasp.

“I’m going home,” he mutters wearily. “See you at work.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **1)** Bet you were starting to think there wouldn't be a new chapter this week, weren't you? And now you're probably regretting that there is one.


	9. Unexpected

Yukke wraps his arms tightly around his soulmate, buries his nose in her hair, and lets out a loud sigh of contentment. Rika giggles in that infectious way of hers and tries to wriggle closer beneath the rumpled covers.

“Happy, Yukke-san?” she asks playfully.

“How could I not be?” he replies sincerely. “I’ve got the prettiest girl in the world in bed with me.”

“I didn’t realize you’ve met every girl in the world!”

Her voice is a soft, sweet melody against his throat, and he can feel the smile on her lips as she speaks. Never in his wildest dreams did Yukke imagine his soulmate would be so wonderful, not even as he was staring open-mouthed at her as they stood across from one another at the grocery checkout. She’s exactly the way Satochi dreamed all those years ago: short and plump and attractive with deep dimples that are almost constantly visible because of how much she smiles.

Yukke shoves away the thought of Satochi as quickly as he can and fights to feel nothing except the warmth and contentment of being together with Rika.

“Yukke-san.”

“Mm?”

“Who is Satochi?”

In a flash, the contentment has vanished, and the gaping hole in his heart that he’s been so doggedly refusing to acknowledge for the past five months is suddenly thrust into the limelight.

“Where did you hear that name?”

“Tatsurou-san,” she supplies at once, “When we were all out the other night. You had gone for more beer, and he asked where Satochi was. Everyone else at the table promptly kicked him for it.”

Yukke gives a humourless laugh.

“Serves him right.”

“Who was he talking about?” Rika asks again.

“Should’ve asked Tatsu,” evades Yukke.

“Oh I did,” she replies lightly. “Mally-san wouldn’t let him explain and said it’s a question you’d need to answer yourself.”

“Of course she did.”

Yukke doesn’t want to tell Rika about Satochi and blight the wonderful new relationship they’re building. He would never _lie_ to her, but he’s been naively hoping that if he just ignores the issue and never mentions it, she’ll never need to find out. Curse Mally. Why couldn’t she have just stepped in and clarified! Saved everyone the discomfort.

“Yukke-san?”

“Sato is…” Yukke hesitates, “Was…?”

_Gods, no, past tense doesn’t feel right._

“S-still is, I guess, I dunno… m-my best friend.”

He can practically taste the curiosity radiating from her, but she waits patiently for him to continue.

“I’ve sort of… been in love with him most of my life, and I did something really stupid a few months ago that… l-led him to find out.”

“Oh that must have been unsettling,” she commiserates, stroking along Yukke’s bare spine.

It’s a comforting gesture; Yukke wishes he could enjoy it without thinking of how he used to do the same whenever Satochi was upset.

“Is that why he didn’t come to the pub with us? Because he still needs time and space to sort out his own feelings?”

“Didn’t invite him,” Yukke admits, trying not to squirm with the guilt. “I’ve… kinda been avoiding him since that night.”

Rika draws back, and even though Yukke isn’t wearing his glasses, he can still clearly see the startled expression on her pretty face.

“But why!”

“Because I’m a coward and can’t bring myself to face the inevitable rejection.”

Rika scoffs and plants a very firm kiss on her soulmate’s lips.

“What makes you so sure it will be a rejection, Yukke-san.”

“I don’t see how it could possibly be anything else. He already made his feelings pretty clear. ‘Don’t want to hurt you; will make things worse to pretend’ et cetera.”

“None of that sounds like a definite ‘no’ to me,” she insists. “You’re just too modest and prone to underestimate your own appeal. I think you should definitely try to work things out with him, but even if his answer ultimately _is_ no, you shouldn’t keep avoiding him. Admittedly, I don’t know Satochi-san, but if _my_ best friend had confessed to being in love with me for years and then completely disappeared, I’d be extremely confused and hurt.”

“But what about us?”

“What about us?”

Rika sounds genuinely bewildered.

“Y-you wouldn’t mind my trying to… work things out with someone else?”

“Of _course_ not. Why would I mind?”

“I think most people who find out their soulmate is in love with someone else _would_ mind,” he points out.

“I’m sorry,” she apologizes at once. “Please don’t think I’m indifferent about you just because I’m not the sort to get jealous or possessive. It just seems silly to me to expect a person to instantly stop being in love.”

“Is there… someone else _you_ love?” Yukke asks.

It slightly surprises him how little the idea of Rika having someone else to love bothers him. She giggles and gives him a squeeze.

“Not at the moment. But to answer your original question, no, I don’t object to the idea of my soulmate having a boyfriend. Because you loving other people, and how _much_ you love them, has nothing to do with our relationship. You can eat your fill of nigiri and still crave tonkatsu.”

The word ‘boyfriend’ makes Yukke tingle right down to his toes, and Rika’s analogy makes him smile in spite of himself.

“Which one of those are you?” he jokes.

“I’m the rice,” she replies promptly. “Meals will always feel incomplete without me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **1)** Be ware the time skip.  
>  **2)** I gave in. Rika is officially Yukke's soulmate. I had to. [Look](https://k40.kn3.net/taringa/2/2/8/0/7/1/77/alphonsetchami9/8DB.jpg?8174) at [how](https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/jpop/images/9/94/Rika.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20151006205350) frickin' [cute](https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/jpop/images/b/b2/Member_1000212.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20150303194426) she [is](https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/jpop/images/7/79/Shimarika2017.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20171103160626)! *dies*


	10. Unapologetic

Someone rings the door chime of Satochi’s flat. Half-drunk and bleary-eyed, he fumbles beneath the kotatsu in search of his mobile.

_I didn’t order a pizza, did I?_

The chime rings again.

 _Must’ve done_ , he concludes as he heaves himself up, catching his knee painfully on the corner on the way.

He swears and rubs at the tender spot as he limps across the room. Food delivery persons are the only ones who ever ring the bell; most people knock. Yukke has his own key, but Yukke’s the last person on earth who will be coming into Satochi’s flat any more, isn’t he? He’s made that quite clear with his complete absence from Satochi’s life since the night of Miya and Mally’s party. 

Despite the affirmation that they would see one another at work, Yukke always seems to be scheduled at other job sites, to have unavoidable plans with other friends or too many other things on his plate to spend time with Satochi. They’ve gone from inseparable to utterly disconnected. And then the rumour reached Satochi’s ears that Yukke has met his soulmate. 

That old saying that you don’t know what you had until you lose it has proven quite true. Satochi’s heart absolutely broke when Hazuki confirmed it was true. Yukke is gone forever as far as Satochi can imagine, leaving a void in construction worker’s life. He misses Yukke’s laugh and his smile and his sense of humour. He misses the easy comfort of the hugs and kisses they used to share. Misses Yukke’s scent on his pillow and Yukke’s clothes mixed up with his in the hamper and Yukke’s….

Angrily, Satochi wrenches open the door, ready to take his deteriorating mood out on the pizza boy. Only it isn’t the pizza boy who greets him. It’s a girl. A pretty girl whose dimpled smile when she sees him leaves no question in his mind who she is.

“Takayasu-san? Hi, I’m Shima Rika.”

She holds out her hand toward him eagerly. He doesn’t shake it; he just stares at it.

“I’m….”

“I know who you are,” he interrupts rudely. “What do you want?”

“To talk to you about Yukke-san. May I come in?”

“No.”

“Okay. I thought you might prefer to talk about it all in private, but if you don’t mind standing here in the corridor, that’s fine too.”

Rika doesn’t appear the least bit phased by Satochi’s sour attitude, which irritates him even more. The bitter vindictive part of his personality wants to tell her to go to hell and slam the door in her face. Yet, there’s the remote possibility that Yukke has sent his soulmate as an extended olive branch, and if that’s true, Satochi can’t risk not hearing her out.

“I _guess_ you can come in,” he begrudgingly allows, holding the door open for her. “But I’m Satochi; Takayasu-san is my father.”

She giggles.

“Understood.”

Rika slips off her shoes and heads over to the kotatsu, settling down quite comfortably as if she’s visited Satochi dozens of times. Satochi’s half-expecting a disapproving comment about the wreckage that is his neglected flat; he’s been worse than usual about keeping things clean since Yukke hasn’t been around to badger him about it. Rika, however, either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care; her eyes never leave Satochi’s face as he skirts around and collapses back onto the floor, scattering empty cans around him.

“Well?” he makes a tired sort of gesture, hoping she’ll get on with it already and then leave.

“My soulmate’s in love with you.”

Satochi doesn’t know what surprises him more, the bluntness of what she’s said or the cheerful tone in which she’s said it.

“I… h-he…mentioned that.”

A pointless answer, but the best he can manage in the circumstances. Rika flashes him a dimpled smile.

“He’s convinced you are disgusted by him for feeling that way, but I knew that couldn’t really be true. Especially not with all of the things Miya-san and Hazuki-san have said about how close you are. You _aren’t_ disgusted, are you?”

Satochi stares at her in bemusement. _Is this perky young woman real?_

“No, I’m not… disgusted.”

“I’m so glad!” she exclaims and claps her hands together. “He’s still too insecure to talk to you about it, so you’ll have to be the one to broach the topic, I think. But my suspicion is that won’t be an issue now that we’ve had this chat. We can wait to talk about practical stuff like boundaries and coordinating schedules after you’ve made things official.”

Satochi’s eyes bulge as he sputters:

“O-official? B-boundaries?! What the hell are you talking about?”

“You and Yukke-san dating,” she replies as if it’s the most obvious thing ever. “Although I could understand if you’d rather call it something other than ‘dating’ considering your history.”

“Me… and Yukke… dating.”

The words might as well be some unintelligible data and Satochi the computer spitting out ‘does not compute’ in reply.

“Don’t you want to?” asks Rika encouragingly.

Well, of _course_ he wants to. Satochi can’t think of anything he wants more. That isn’t the relevant point.

“Aren’t… what about you?”

“That’s a very generous offer, but I don’t think you’re my type,” she teases.

“You and _him_ ,” Satochi specifies.

“Oh dear, I can see you’re two cucumbers. I’ve already discussed it with him, and he’s aware that I’m fine with him seeing both of us at once.”

“Y-you _want_ to share him?” asks Satochi incredulously.

Something in the back of his mind tries to point out to Satochi how ironic it is that his adult brain never once thought of Yukke as a potential romantic partner while his fifteen-year-old subconscious was not only plainly aware of the attraction but also recognized sharing with the soulmate as a viable solution.

Rika smiles that sweet smile of hers and nods emphatically.

“If you return his feelings, absolutely! I want him to be happy, and it’s very obvious he needs you in his life to make that happen,” she explains. “Something tells me you need him every bit as much.”

She doesn’t mention the dark circles under Satochi’s eyes and the three-day stubble on his chin. She doesn’t need to.

“I…,” Satochi hesitates.

It’s such a tantalising proposition. He doesn’t trust it.

“What if I screw it up? I do that, you know – make a complete mess out of things, even when I try really hard not to.”

Rika’s smile fades. She scoots closer and takes his hand in hers, patting it soothingly like they’ve been friends forever.

“You love him, and he loves you. As long as you focus on that and respect each other, everything will work out, Satochi-san. Now, why don’t you have a nice hot shower and a change of clothes before we go get things settled.”

Satochi’s already in the process of combing through his wet hair before it dawns on him that he _could_ have told her ‘no’.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **1)** Again, using rumoured family name for Sato because it's as good as anything I could make up.  
>  **2)** [Two cucumbers](https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/%E7%93%9C%E4%BA%8C%E3%81%A4) is apparently the Japanese version of "two peas in a pod".


	11. Undeniable

Even with Rika’s assurance that everything will work out, Satochi isn’t really prepared to ‘get things settled’ yet. However, he hasn’t worked up the nerve to voice any objection by the time Rika is leading him by the wrist through Yukke’s door, and at that point, it’s too late anyway. Mechanically, he removes his shoes in the genkan and allows Rika to shove him gently into the main room.

“Yukke-san,” she calls cheerfully, “I’ve brought you some company!”

Panic sets in, and Satochi would very much like to escape while he still can. Unfortunately, his legs have decided to stop obeying him. He stands rooted to the spot, staring at the door to Yukke’s bedroom in growing dread.

“Company?” replies Yukke. “Who…?”

Yukke stops at the threshold, also frozen dead in his tracks, gaping in disbelief at Satochi. Rika’s dimples are clearly visible as she greets her soulmate with a mischievous kiss.

“I can’t stay, but I’m sure you both have so much you need to talk about that I won’t be missed.”

She heads back toward door with a spring in her step, pausing at Satochi’s side. To both men’s surprise, she gives him a peck on the cheek too, whispering “Good luck” in a loud stage whisper. Then she disappears, and they are left alone. 

Together. 

Separated by only two meters. And almost half a year’s silence. 

There’s so much Yukke wants to say, but the words stick in his throat. Rika’s absolutely correct; they have a lot of things to discuss. Too many. How can he possibly find the right place to begin?

“Sato,” he croaks.

Yukke has spoken Satochi’s name with that same inflection a million times before, yet now that Satochi knows what to listen for, the longing suffusing it is unmistakeable. An identical need wells up within Satochi’s own heart, and all thoughts of running away vanish. Face to face again, there’s no way in hell he’s going to let this chance slip by.

In the blink of an eye, Satochi closes the distance between them, drags Yukke into his arms, and kisses him forcefully. The way he _ought_ to have kissed his best friend that night at Mally’s party had he only seen what’s been right before his eyes for thirty-seven years. A fierce, bruising, demanding kiss fuelled by a thousand different emotions. Yukke immediately reciprocates, clinging to Satochi like a lifeline after so many lonely months.

“Missed you,” Satochi whispers hoarsely against Yukke’s lips. “Missed you so damn much!”

Overwhelmed, Yukke sags into the strong arms enfolding him as Satochi, _his_ Satochi, engulfs all of his senses. Sight, sound, scent, taste, touch – there is nothing and no one in the universe right now except the man he loves. Urgent hands find their way beneath cotton fabric to clutch desperately at tanned flesh. Finally. Yukke is _finally_ kissing him again.

“Missed you too, Sato. No, ‘missed’ doesn’t even come _close_ to what I felt. I….”

Satochi devours Yukke’s lips, muffling the little sob that threatens to choke him, but the fingers that stroke along the nape of his neck become gentler.

“I warned you I’m slow letting things sink in,” Satochi murmurs through the kisses. “But I know for _sure_ now, Yukkun, and I’m yours… if you still want me.”

Yukke presses himself so insistently against Satochi’s muscular frame that they end up toppling backward onto the sofa. Satochi lays sprawled flat on the cushions with Yukke hovering over him, half draped over the sofa’s back. 

“Of _course_ I still want you, you idiot. I’m in love with you.”

Satochi grins up at him, not the least bit offended by being called an idiot. But a worried expression creeps onto Yukke’s face.

“I’m so sorry, Sato. It was awful of me to avoid you all that ti-….”

_This won’t do!_

Satochi interrupts Yukke’s apology by tugging him down by the shoulders until they’re chest to chest, roguish gleam in his eyes as he growls:

“Less talking; more kissing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took me 7 months to finish this chapter, and if you're disappointed with it... well, yeah, me too. Sorry.


End file.
